The Thin Line
by favefangirl
Summary: Derek doesn't like people. It's nothing personal, just a rule of his. He doesn't discriminate based on race or religion or sexuality, he hates everyone equally. Well, he hates that annoying nerd a little more than everyone else, but aside from him he dislikes everyone in equal measure. That's just how it's always been with Derek. (There is so much swearing in this it's terrible!)
Derek doesn't like people. It's nothing personal, just a rule of his. He doesn't discriminate based on race or religion or sexuality, he hates everyone equally. Well, he hates that annoying nerd a little more than everyone else, but aside from him he dislikes everyone in equal measure. That's just how it's always been with Derek.

Derek supposes it isn't Stiles' fault he's so irritating, he doesn't _mean_ to get on Derek's nerves. He's just really, really annoying. He's loud, sarcastic, skinny, hyper-active and with those adorable moles! Derek hates those most. They're just so cute and adorable...But irritating! Incredibly annoying, with the power to make Derek's blood boil...Well, make his blood do something...

Erica totally doesn't know what she's talking about, he isn't _into_ Stiles. That's absurd! Erica is one of only a select few people Derek can actually stand to be around, and he loves her dearly. But she must be an idiot if she thinks Derek could ever like someone as irritable, biting, adorable, kind, attractive...as awful as Stiles.

It's just not happening. Stiles and Derek have a mutual hatred of one another, almost like an agreement not to be friends. And whilst their friends are dating each other, they're happy just sitting back and watching everyone else be happy. Because Derek Hale is absolutely not into Stiles Stilinski.

"I might be into Stiles." Derek says, dropping his tray onto the table loudly, then sitting down quickly across from a bemused looking Erica to avoid the stares from around the room.

"Y'don't say." Erica teases, leaning into Boyd who's sat next to her. "It only took you four years to figure it out."

"Yes, alright. I get it, you tried to warn me, can we drop it now." Derek sighs, turning his attention to his food (if you can call it that).

Today's menu consists of a meat(?) patty in a bread bun and curly fries. Fucking _curly fries_! Not even the lunch ladies will let Derek forget what he's finally realised. How the hell is he supposed to cope in the many, _many_ lessons he and Stiles share if he's affected by curly fries?

Derek barely notices Isaac sit down with his own tray of lunch - the vegetarian option of a salad, because Isaac does _not_ trust school food after that one time he got food poisening, but even they can't mess up lettuce, right? - because he's so immersed in his own drama. He'd feel guilty for being a bad friend if he's not so pissed off at everything - more so than usual.

"Isaac, good, we're glad you've managed to tear yourself away from your boyfriend long enough to say hello to us." Erica says after he sits down, "Derek is having a crisis. He's finally figured out what we've all known for years. Y'know, about him being totally in love with Stiles."

Isaac only laughs, and Derek vows to find himself some new friends...after they've helped him sort out his mess of a love life. Erica has been saying since they were Freshmen that there's a thin line between love and hate, and even Jackson - who's main priority in life his how good his hair looks - has offered on more than one occasion to get Stiles' number for him.

"I'm not in love with him." Derek mumbles unconvincingly, a scowl on his face, which makes Isaac laugh even more.

Derek's telling the truth. He's not in love with Stiles - not yet at least - it's just he was watching the way a strip of sunlight danced across Stiles' skin - when he should have been listening to Harris talk about how gold is native, but whatever - and he felt... _something_. He can't quite describe it, but he sure felt it. It felt... _nice_? Derek craves feeling it again.

There's just that small problem of Stiles hating him. Has done since their first day of high school when Derek - _accidently!_ \- covered Stiles in bolognaise sauce. Stiles' face turned dark crimson as the rest of the cafeteria laughed at him. He bolted, closely followed by loyal best friend, Scott. Derek thinks he could have left a better lasting impression.

"Where's Jackson, I want to tell him the good news?" Erica enthuses, looking around the caffeteria.

Her eyes land on the sight of Jackson with his tongue down Lydia Martin's throat, at a table with all of Lydia's friends (including Stiles). He seems to be purposefully blocking out everyone else, because every time someone tries to speak to him, his eyes roll beneath his lids. Erica can't help but giggle, and Derek just shakes his head.

"Stiles keeps offering to give him kissing lessons." Isaac says, seemingly innocently. But he and Erica share a meaningful look, and Derek wants to murder both of them. "Says he's a good kisser, and Jackson could learn a thing or two."

"I will cut you." Derek promises, darkly, eliciting more giggles from the rest of the table.

"I kick your ass at killing zombies." Stiles protests loudly as he walks through the door into Harris' classrom nearly a week later.

Derek watches him a subtly as he can, careful not to make it obvious to Erica, who would _never_ let him live it down. Like, _ever_. Stiles is wearing jeans that make his ass look good, and Derek wonders when it was he suddenly started noicing Stiles' ass in so much detail. He also wears a plain white t-shirt, and grey hoodie.

Harris walks in after Stiles and Scott, and everyone's attention turns to him. He is, without a doubt, the worst of all the school's teachers. At least _they_ all have understanding about teenagers, not Harris, though. He seems to think that people actually _care_ about chemistry, which most don't (of the science kind, anyway).

"To make up the remainder of your grade, you will do projects in pairs. There will be homework set every lesson which _both_ of you must contribute to." Harris drones on.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Derek notices Scott and Stiles share a look. He knows that means they're working together. It's laughable, really, that they still need to check. They've worked together on everything since, forever. They probably learned to walk holding each other's hands!

"Before you all get excited, _I_ have chosen your pairs." Harris grumbles, eyeing Stiles and Scott as well.

It goes without saying that they don't end up paired with each other. Scott ends up working with Allison Argent, one of his other friends. Isaac and boyd are paired. Lydia and Erica - Derek thinks that should be interesting - Jackson and Danny - the only other person (aside from Lydia) Jackson can stand on that table. Which only leaves...

"Mr Hale and Mr Stilinski, will also be working together." Harris explains, tossing the paper with everyone's groups on back onto his desk.

Erica catches his eye, and Derek wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

"We'll study at mine. We'll cram last minute in the library. And we _won't_ talk to each other, unless it's about science." Stiles says after the lesson ends, before Derek can even say anything. He nods, dumbly, and Stiles is striding off again with Scott following him.

Erica struts over to Derek and grins. "Even Harris sees the chemistry there." She jokes, wiggling her perfect eyebrows.

"Whatever." Derek grunts, "Have fun with little miss perfect."

He pushes past Erica, and makes his way to basketball practice.

Stiles' house is quaint. There are pictures all over the place, documenting Stiles' life. Ones with his father, ones without. There are an ocasional one or two where it's just the sheriff surrounded by people Derek doesn't know. The picture that catches his eye, though, is the one of a baby Stiles - he knows it's Stiles because of the moles - being cuddled by a woman Derek doesn't recognise.

"She's beautiful." Derek comments as Stiles comes back out of his kitchen, bowl of chips in hand. "Who is she?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Derek's a private person himself, and hates others to pry, so he doesn't know why he asks. All he knows is that he's compelled to know everything there is to know about Stiles, to make Stiles see he isn't a total bad guy. So then maybe, _maybe_ Stiles might see a Derek he actually likes, and Derek will be in with a shot.

"My mom." Stiles finally says after a long silence, "That's the only picture we ever had together, so my dad keeps it up."

Derek's mouth goes dry. Everyone knows that Claudia Stilinski died when Stiles was very young. No one knows what happens, they all respect Stiles and his dad's privacy enough not to ask, but there are rumors. Lots of them. They got more frequent when Stiles' dad became the Sheriff, and Derek's pretty sure Stiles knows how everyone talks about him. He feels guilty for asking about the photo.

"C'mon." Stiles says, his voice harder than before, "We've got homework to do."

Derek follows Stiles up the stairs, noting even more pictures lining walls, and into Stiles' bedrrom. The room is spacious, with wardrobes lining a wall on one side of the room, a wooden desk on the other, and a double bed in the centre. Everywhere is colourful, books and DVD's are stacked all over. It's chaotic. Derek likes it. He notices straight away that there aren't any pictures in this room.

A book lays open on Stiles' bed; Wuthering Heights. Derek nearly laughs, but then realises how fucking _adorable_ it is that Stiles reads old romance novels, and decides not to mention it. To anyone - _especially_ not Erica. And besides, Derek already breached the 'only talk about science' rule Stiles made.

"So, we have to write out both the word and symbol equations for anything Iron and Copper reacts with." Stiles explains, flopping onto his desk chair.

Derek stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring round for somewhere else to sit. He soon realises his only other option is Stiles' bed. Somehow, that feels intrusive. Like he'd be over-stepping the line. And the room smells distinctly of Stiles, and Derek remembers a much simpler time, when that scent repulsed him. Now he wants to bury his nose in Stiles' pillow and inhale deeply...not creepy at all...

"Who'd've thought _the_ Derek Hale would be all shy?" Stiles quips as he searches through his backpack for something, and Derek thinks it's mostly only to himself. He knows Stiles is talking to him when he says, "Beanie chair, in the corner."

Derek silently thanks him, and collects the seat. It rustles loudly as he brings it back to the desk. He sits a little away from Stiles, to keep them both comfortable, and tries to focus on the worksheet rather than how pretty Stiles' hands are. And fuck, but he's thinking about Stiles' _hands_! He was in way fucking deep!

Derek decides it's safer to get his own copy of the sheet out, as a way to distract him from the effects Stiles hands(!) are having on him. He thanks some higher being that they agreed to do an hour of studying together every week, because he doesn't think he'd be able to manage longer.

Studying with Stiles is _torture_! He's constantly distracted by the poutyness of Stiles' lips, and the elegance of Stiles' long fingers. He keeps having to ask Stiles to reapeat what he's just said, because he was too busy fantasising about being able to kiss those lips, or tangle his own fingers in Stiles'. Stiles, however, is extremely patient with him. _Great,_ Derek thinks, _He thinks I'm imcompetant._

Derek is glad that they only have to study for an hour every week, because it helps keep teasing to a minimum. Erica tells Jackson with glee about Derek's infatuation, and all he does is bark out a laugh, before making his way over to Lydia (and _Stiles_!). Derek wonders if he's making a mistake trusting Jackson...

Boyd, as usual, is quiet about the matter. He smiles along with everyone else whenever the topic is brought up, but doesn't contribute to the relelntless teasing. Derek thanks him for it regularly, and is glad he has a loyal friend in Boyd, at least. He also thanks Boyd for asking Erica to shut the hell up about it, not that she listens.

The constant joking only worsens when, without knowing the true significance of his actions, Stiles comes over to talk to Derek at lunch. Isaac grinns, and Erica raises her eyebrows at Derek, who glares back at them both. Stiles doesn't seem to notice the hostility, or just ignores it, as he sits down next to Derek.

"You're coming to mine to study tonight, right?" Stiles asks, casually.

"Uh, no. I can't. I've got a basketball game tonight." Derek explains, kicking Erica under the table as she tries to muffle a giggle in the crook of Boyd's neck.

"After?" Stiles asks, frowning.

Derek hates Stiles' frown. Well, maybe that isn't strictly true. Derek likes everything about Stiles - it's pitiful, really - but seeing Stiles unhappy? Yeah, Derek hates that. He also hates that he wishes he could just run over, wrap Stiles in his arms, and feed him curly fries until he's happy again. He knows, though, that he can't do that.

"We usually go out for a team celebration..." Derek mumbles, knowing he sounds stupid.

"Ugh," Stiles sighs, "Come to mine to study for an hour, then go and be all jock-ish with your jock-is friends...jock-ishly..."

Derek stares at Stiles for a while, before finally saying, "Fine. An hour."

"Great." Stiles beams, clapping Derek on the shoulder as he goes back to join his own friends - and Jackson - at their table.

"Smooth, Hale." Isaac mocks, shoving a lettuce leaf into his mouth.

Erica laughs far too loudly, and Derek just wants to die...

When Derek gets to Stiles' house - after leading his team to victory in the basketball game - he's tired and it's late. He notices the Sheriff's car in the drive, and thinks it's a little early to be meeting the parents. Then he remembers that he and Stiles aren't actually dating, and that his feelings are totally one sided, so he needs to stop being a little bitch and suck it up.

"Derek." Sheriff Stilinski beams as he opens the door, "Come in."

Derek does as he's told and steps into the house. He can feel his heart beating fast in his ribcage, and hopes that the Sheriff can't hear it too. Derek suddenly remembers everytime he even slightly broke a law, and hopes that the Sheriff can't smell fear as well as the hounds he works with can.

"Stiles is upstairs." The Sheriff says, "You can go straight up."

Derek nods and makes his way up to Stiles' bedroom. Fatigue is starting to take its toll, and every step takes all his effort. He's slower than he would normally be, and stops outside Stiles' door to yawn widely. He doesn't need Stiles seeing that (no one looks good yawning, okay, not even Derek Hale).

He knocks and waits for Stiles' permission before entering. Stiles is sat on his bed reading, in jogging bottoms (that hug his hips nicely!) and a t-shirt, and Derek can't help but admire how fucking _sexy_ he looks with his hair messed up like that. Stiles stands up and stretches, letting Derek admire the pale strip of skin that is revealed as his top rides up a few centimeters.

"Sorry, the game ran late." Derek explains, averting his eyes.

"Whatever." Stiles shrugs, "Did you win?"

Derek turns his attention back and asks, "You didn't go?"

Stiles rolls his eyes and goes to his desk, "Not everyone worships the very ground you stand on, Hale. Some of us mere mortals do actually have prorities other than voting you prom king."

Derek can't help but blush. Still, he hears the venom in Stiles' words, the harsh tone his voice takes when he's unhappy. Only this isn't saddness, it's repulsion, and it makes Derek feel sick. He doesn't want everyone to give a shit about him, he only wants Stiles to. Apparently, that doesn't matter.

Derek sighs and sits down on the beanie chair - it's already placed by Stiles' desk - and slides off his backpack. Exhaustion overcomes him, and folds his arms on Stiles' desk, and rests his forehead on them. He's aware it's maybe a little innapropriate, but he's too tired to care very much.

Stiles, to both his and Derek's surprise, runs his fingers through Derek's hair. He tenses, as though he realises what's just happened, and Derek sighs contentedly trying to let him know it's okay. And it is okay, because it feels _really_ good. Derek can't help but let out a quiet whine the next time Stiles does it.

"If you want, you can just copy my homework. You seem like you need sleep rather than complicated chemistry formulas." Stiles whispers after they've both been silent for a long time.

The room is quiet, the silence only broken by the soft sound of a band Derek's never heard before playing through Stiles' speakers, and his own soft sounds at the mercy of Stiles' fingers. It's peaceful and calm, the exact opposite of what Derek imagines the after-party will be. But he's happier anyway, in Stiles' room, with Stiles running his long fingers through the dark tendrils of his hair. It's content, and honest in a way Derek hasn't really been in a long time.

"We're supposed to work together." Derek protests weakly, lifting his head finally to look Stiles in the eye.

Stiles shrugs, a soft smile playing at his lips. God, those lips. Only the angels themselves could have crafted something so heavenly. And Derek mentally kicks himself, because since when was he so fucking poetic? He barely makes it through English Lit most of the time, and here he is comparing Stiles to a fucking summers day! Derek is totally fucked.

"Okay, fine. But I swear I'll help next time. You aren't carrying me this semester." Derek sighs. He doesn't want Stiles to think he's the type to let someone else do all the work for him.

"I wouldn't anyway." Stiles agrees, and Derek lets his head fall back into his arms for Stiles to continue his previous actions.

That night, all Derek can dream about is how fucking _good_ Stiles' fingers felt in his hair, and how nice it was having hushed conversations together about everything and nothing.

" _So_." Erica says as soon as she sits down at lunch. From her tone, Derek can tell that the next words out of her mouth are going to be dangerous. "Are you in love yet?"

Derek actually spits out his water, which causes people to turn and stare for a while before going back to their own conversations. Erica stares at him expectantly, and out of the corner of his eye, Derek sees Boyd roll his own. Isaac is grinning, and Jackson - who has opted to join them today, since he and Lydia had an argument - frowns at the water spray on the table.

" _Erica_." Derek hisses, mainly becuase he doesn't know what else to say, but also because he's been wondering the same thing.

"Oh, come one Der. You go round to his house _every week_ , you spend an hour together, he sits next to you in Chem since Isaac sits with Scott now. I've seen you both giggling at each other. It's sickening how cute you two are! You've got to have fallen for him by now." Erica says gleefully, her eyes lighting up.

She has a point. He and Stiles are spending an awful lot of time together. They're pushing the boundries of 'only talking about Chemistry', starting to tell each other about other real things, things that mean stuff to them. Like how Derek now knows Stiles' favourite band is Front Porch Step, and his favourite film is Psycho - although Star Wars is his favourite franchise.

Derek shrugs and says, "We're just doing chem, that's all. No I'm not _fucking_ in love with the guy. Can we drop this now, please?"

Derek, as it turns out, _is_ actually a little bit in love with Stiles. He realises this when they're studying together, and Stiles makes this awful joke and Derek laughs. He fucking laughs, because this adorable dork is fucking adorable, and he can't help himself. And that's when he wonders if he's maybe progressed from crushing on, to falling for.

"Hey, Derek." Stiles says as they're halfway through describing in detail how iron is extracted using a blast furnace, "Can we study at yours next week? My dad's having this dinner thing or something, and I don't wanna have to meet all his work friends."

Derek freezes. Stiles. At his house. _In his room_! His heart begins to beat faster at the thought. It's not like he hasn't imagined it a billion times over the past few weeks - of course, in his dreams the sort of chemistry they have isn't of the science variety - but for it to become a reality?

"Sure." Derek replies, sounding as casual as he can. "That's fine."

Stiles nods and goes back to the blast furnaces, clearly unaware of how sweaty Derek's palms have become.

The next week is a blur, and suddenly it's the night Stiles is coming to Derek's. Like, his house. Like, his room. Sure, Boyd and Isaac come all the time, even Erica and occasionally Jackson. But this is different, because this is Stiles. And now he's seriously struggling to function.

All too soon, the doorbell rings.

Derek rushes to answer it before anyone else can, and finds Stiles stood outside. He looks the same as always; beautiful. Only now he's looking beautiful on Derek's porch, and somehow that makes him even more appealing. Derek grins at him as he invites him in, and Stiles smiles back.

"Is your mom in?" Stiles asks as he takes in the hall.

"Mothers not feeling quite herself." Derek replies without missing a beat, and he knows it's stupid but it's worth it to see the smile that falls on Stiles' face. "She's working late tonight. Laura's probably upstairs, or Cora." Stiles nods. "My room's this way." Derek adds leading Stiles upstairs, and he has to hide his face so Stiles can't see him blush at the bluntness of his own words.

Derek's room is pretty plain; just a bed, wardrobe and desk. He has shelves for his books - the few he owns - and they're arranged neatly in alphabetical order. His backpack is hung up on the back of his door, along with his leather and letterman jackets. He thinks of the controled chaos of Stiles' bedroom, and wonders how big Stiles thinks the stick up his arse is.

"Man, you must think my room's a shit hole." Stiles mutters, looking round. "Look how _tidy_ this is!"

Derek shrugs, and gestures for Stiles to sit on his bed. He grabs the chem books from his backpack, and sits on the bed next to Stiles. They're silent for a few moments whilst they find the right page of the textook to complete the worksheet, but Derek doesn't care. He feels intoxicated by the familiar scent of Stiles' cologne.

After almost twenty minutes - and only a few of the _many_ questions on the worksheet - Derek hears Stiles' tummy rumble, and he resists the urge to giggle like a five year old at the memory of Winnie the Pooh saying, 'rumbly tumbly'. He is a High School Senior, damn it, he will not laugh at a childhood toy he once owned. When it happens again, Derek turns to face Stiles.

"Sorry, dude, I didn't have time to catch a bite before I got here." Stiles explains, the start of a blush creeping on his cheeks.

"I mean, there's probably something in the fridge downstairs." Derek replies, frowning at how stupid he seems. "Granted it'll probably only be some weight loss profuct or something. Or, I mean, we could go out and get something? Study at the diner?"

Stiles shrugs, "That sounds cool. So long as you don't mind my nerdiness ruining your cred."

Derek laughs a little bit, "It would take a lot more than being seen socialising with you to ruin in my cred."

"What of we got caugh doing other things?" Stiles teases, narrowing his eyes and smirking.

Derek feigns calmness as he replies, "Now that would depend on what sort of other things." When in reality he swears his heart is beating faster than ever before. Like, ever.

It's pretty late, so the diner is mostly empty. Theres an older couple in one of the booths having a coffee together, and some guy who looks suspitiously like a serial killer sat behind them enjoying a burger. There are a few others there, but no one Derek recognises. He's just glad that Erica isn't there, because Stiles might not be ruining his reputation, but she won't ever let him live it down. She'd probably assume it's like a date or something.

Is it a date, Derek wonders. He kind of asked Stiles out, and it's just the two of them alone together. But it isn't romantic, they're supposed to be doing fucking Chem homework! And Stiles doesn't seem to be considering it a date. On the contrary, he's stuffing his mouth with curly fries and explaining why Derek could totally take Spider-man in a fight.

Derek listens avidly, forcing himself not to grin at how adorable Stiles looks like this. He nods in all the right places, and adds in 'uh huhs' and 'rights' every so often. Sure, he doesn't take in most of what Stiles is saying - Derek's never really been into superheroes - but he enjoys himself all the same.

They must have been at the diner nearly an hour when Stiles seems to remember that they actually have homework that they're supposed to be doing. He digs around in his backpack and pulls out the slightly crumpled worksheet. He begins furiously writing down answers, and reeling off information faster than Derek knew was even possible. Stiles is half finished by the time Derek's managed to get his sheet out.

"Here, just copy the answers I got. I think they're right, you could just check them." Stiles says, helping himself to some of Dereks ordinary fries without even asking.

"I thought we agreed you weren't carrying me?" Derek asks, checking through Stiles' answers before copying them down.

Stiles shrugs and says, "It's probably quicker me working alone anyway," still eating Derek fries.

It takes Derek five minutes to copy down Stiles' answers, and in that time, Stiles begins another rant about how it's not fair that Steve knows Bucky's alive, but they still can't reuinte properly because of how fucked up Bucky is after everything Hydra has done to him. By the time Stiles runs out of points to make, it's nine-fifteen and the diner is closing.

"You want a ride home?" Derek offers, sliding his backpack off his shoulders by his car. "It saves you walking."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees, "Thanks."

Derek nods, and opens the driver side door. He slides in as gracefully as he can. Stiles gets in the other side, and closes the door behind him. Within seconds, the entire car smells like Stiles' cologne, and Derek dreads when he next has to get a new air freshener, because he doesn't want to loose the scent.

Derek puts the key into the ignition, and turns. The engine fires up with an almighty roar, and Taylor Swift comes through the steroe. "Fucking radio," Derek grumbles as he turns it off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Stiles grin, and has to fight off a smile of his own. He begins driving off, out of the diner parking lot, and onto the road.

They drive in silence, but it isn't awkward. There's no tension. It's calm and peacful, and Derek thinks it's something that they don't even need to talk all the time, but they can just be in each other's prescence. Well, he's not sure how Stiles feels about it, but that's what it's like for him.

They arrive outside Stiles' house in just under ten minutes. From the outside, the house looks just as welcoming as the in. The Sheriff's car isn't outside, and Derek assumes he's working the night shift. He thinks of Stiles, home alone, but tells himself he isn't to worry. Stiles isn't a child, he can look after himself.

"Thanks for the ride." Stiles says, not making any move to get out of the car.

"It's cool." Derek shrugs.

He never thought for a second he and Stiles would become friends, much less that he would start to fall for him! The idea seems proposterous, but here he is in his car, really wanting to reach other and hold one of Stiles' hands (because damn are those some nice hands). All he wants is to tell Stiles how he feels.

But he doesn't get chance to, because suddenly someone else's lips are on his. Someone's hand is cupping the side of his face, and their kissing him. It's soft and delicate, almost like they're afraid Derek may break. It takes Derek a few seconds to figure out that Stiles is _kissing_ him, but it only takes those few seconds for Stiles to pull away, eyes wide in shock. He quickly begins getting out of the car as quickly as he can.

"Wait," Derek calls after him, "Stiles...It's...I..."

But Stiles is already inside the house. Derek stares out of the windscreen in awe. Stiles just kissed him. Stiles kissed _him_. And he didn't kiss back. He just sat there like a fucking idiot. He didn't even flinch. He slams his hands into the steering wheel, trying to vent some frustration, but it only hurts him. He growls as he starts the car and drives off, wondering why on earth he's such a fucking moron.

It's just after thier final basketball practice before Lacrosse season, not even a week after. Derek is just changing after showering. He's the last person left in the changing room after he told Boyd to go save him a space at the diner. He's just managed to get his jeans on and fasten them up, when he hears a noise behind him. He spins round frantically, and stares wide-eyed at Stiles.

"Hi." He croaks, hyper-aware of the fact he doesn't have a shirt on.

"Hi." Stiles echoes, taking in Derek's form. Derek's too shocked to even blush. "I just think we need to talk." Stiles explains, finally pulling his eyes away from Derek's torso, instead looking in his eyes.

"Yeah." Derek agrees, quickly pulling on his t-shirt.

"I kissed you." Stiles states, and Derek can only nod dumbly. "You didn't kiss back."

"I was a little bit shocked." Derek admits, and it's Stiles turn to nod. "I would've kissed back if I'd had the chance."

Stiles nods again, then he just stares, and Derek stares back. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. The silence soon becomes awkward, and Derek really, really wants Stiles to say something. Or do something. He doesn't really care, he just wants the quiet to finally end.

"Can I kiss you again?" Stiles asks, finally.

"Please." Derek replies.

He's probably being a little bit too enthusiastic, but he can't bring himself to care. As Stiles crosses the room to kiss him, lips soft against Derek's. Derek stays pliant, letting Stiles lead, and take what he wants. Derek remembers to kiss back this time, and wraps his arms around Stiles' waist. Stiles' own hands find their way the hairs on Derek's nape, and Derek doesn't think anything could ever be so fucking perfect.

The part only when they need to breathe, and neither of them can stop themselves from grinning.

Life is pretty good for Derek. He has great friends, his grades are good, Lacrosse try-outs are fast approaching and he has the cutest boyrfirend ever. Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. The cute one with the moles and an obsession with movies. That Stiles Stilinski. Derek doesn't remember ever being happier!

"You look nervous, man." Derek says to Jackson after the try-outs.

He knows he played well, probably better than ever before. He's pretty confident he'll stay on the team. He's also pretty confident that Jackson'll make captain again, he always does. He thinks it's just a little bit perfect thet he's the basketball captain, Jackson is Lacrosse and Boyd is baseball, almost like the world for once is conspiring with instead of against him.

"You've been team captain since Freshman year, I don't see why it'd change now." Derek reasures Jackson, who looks extremely pale.

Coach Finstock stalks into the changing room, and all conversation dies down. He looks at the face of everyone in the room, with an expression full of disgust. Derek often wonders how he of all people got a job working with minors. He gives Derek the creeps. He's almost as bad a teacher as Harris. Almost.

"Alright, I'll keep this brief." Finchstock shouts, "There will be no changes from last years team except you-" He points to a freshman "-will be playing. The rest of the freshmeats are bench warmers. Oh, and Hale-" He turns to face Derek "-you're captain."

Then Finchstock leaves the room. Derek quickly turns to Jackson to say...Who knows? Sorry? That he'd try and fix it? But he doesn't get chance to, because Jakcson's already pushing past him to follow Finchstock outside without so much as a glance a Derek. Derek really wants to punch something.

He still wants to punch something when he tells Stiles about it later that night. It's not study night, but they can go to each other's houses whenever they want now. And they want to. A lot. They aren't over the top with PDA at school, in fact they talk to each other no more than they had before. But at home, in private, it's a totally different story.

Like now, they're curled up together on Stiles' bed. Stiles is running his hands through Derek's hair - because Derek really likes it, and Stiles likes the noises he makes - and Derek's arms are wrapped around Stiles waist. It's warm and comfortable, and Derek dreads when he'll have to leave.

"So Jackson is like beyond pissed at you now?" Stiles asks. Derek hums his agreement and Stiles continues, "He should have played better if he wanted to be captain."

Derek sighs and sits up. He knows his hair is a mess - Stiles' handiwork - but he doesn't care. He's quite content where he is, sat on Stiles' bed with Stiles. He rolls his neck to get rid of the stiffness, and flinches when it cracks. He knows it's not good to be so tense, but he doesn't have many friends, and doesn't want to ruin his friendship with Jackson.

"Can I offer a distraction?" Stiles purrs - _fucking purrs_ \- when Derek turns to look at him.

Then Stiles is straddling him, and mouthng at his neck, and both feel really fucking good, Derek doesn't want it to end.

Hours later, Derek is lying in his own bed replaying what happened. He hooked up with Stiles. He fucking hooked up with Stiles! And it was good, Derek hopes it happens again. Blood starts rushing to his groin as he replays the way Stiles touched him, or the way Stiles' mouth felt against his skin. He falls asleep with the image of post-orgasm, blissed out Stiles laid out beneath him.

It doesn't take long for things to start falling apart. A mere week later, actually. Derek is sat in Chem, when Scott and Stiles walk in together. They go straight to their old seat and sit down together. The smile that was begining to form on Derek's face disapears, only to be turned into a frown. Isaacs face mirrors his as he walks into the classroom, and finds Stiles sat where he usually sits.

He goes to sit next to Derek and asks, "What's up with them?"

Derek shrugs, and continues to stare at the back of Stiles' head.

That's just the start. Later that day, Derek finds Stiles in the library. He walks over and takes the seat next to him. Stiles flinches away when Derek leans in to kiss his cheek, and Derek frowns. He lets out a breath and tells himself that it's nothing. Everything's fine, there's nothing he needs to worry about.

"Are you coming to mine to study tonight? Harris gave us those revision sheets." Derek asks.

"No." Stiles replies, bluntly.

Derek frowns even more before asking, "Why?"

Stiles shrugs, "I don't feel like it. The sheets not that complicated, you can probably work it out on your own."

The words themselves don't worry Derek, he knows Stiles has a lot on his plate with his other classes, his friends and all his after school activities. But it's the venom Stiles says them with, the cruel tone his voice takes, that's how Derek knows that there's something there to worry about.

"Have I done something wrong?" Derek asks finally, after a long silence.

"No." Stiles says, just as bluntly as before, and he picks up his study guide and walks away, leaving a confused Derek in his wake.

By lunch, Derek's had enough. He manages to catch Stiles as he's leaving Geometry. He asks Scott if he can borrow Stiles for a sec. Scott looks reluctant to agree. He shoots Stiles a worried glance, and Stiles just sighs and nods. He tells Scott to save him a seat at lunch before following Derek to an empty classroom.

Derek shuts the door and demands, "What's up, Stiles? What have I done to piss you off this much?"

Stiles rolls his eyes and says, "What? Thought I wouldn't find out? Thought you'd be able to just pawn me off?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Derek cries, waving his arms to enphisise his confusion.

"I'm breaking up with you, Derek." Stiles explains, cruelly.

"You're...Why?" Derek breaths, hurt settling in every single one of his cells.

"Go fuck yourself, Hale." Stiles growls, and pushes past Stiles out of the room.

Feeling totally numb, Derek makes his way to the caffeteria. He sees Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson, and makes his way over to them. He sits without a word, just staring at the table wondering what the fuck just happened! How had he managed to ruin everything so quickly, without even knowing why!

"How're things with you and Stiles?" Jackson asks, casually.

Derek frowns at him. Never has Jackson ever cared about anyone's relationship except his own, or about anyone but his own feelings. In fact, Derek thinks it's debatable Jackson even cares about anyone but himself at all. It's highly doubtful, to say the least, especially taking into account how fucking vein he is.

Then it clicks.

"What the fuck did you say to Stiles?" Derek demands. Jackson just grins, gets up, and goes over to Lydia. He sits down next to her, still grinning at Derek.

"What's up?" Isaac asks, concern written all over his face.

"Stiles just broke up with me, and he's behind it." Derek spits, glaring at Jackson across the room.

"I'm sure that's not true." Erica quips, frowning.

Derek shoots her a meaningful look and says, "He ever ask you and Boyd how things are going?"

Erica shakes her head no, and Derek raises his eyebrows to say, _told you so_. He gets up and leaves. Not just the caffeteria. No. He gets into his Camaro - which still smells like Stiles - and drives. He knows where he's going, it's where he always goes. He remembers telling Stiles about Kelp Rock, next to the river in the woods. He remembers taking Stiles there, remembers _kissing_ Stiles there, and he clutches the steering wheel tighter.

The vodka is in the log where it always is, but Derek can't even bring himself to get it. Instead he just goes and sits on the jagged rocks by the river, staring at the trees on the opposite bank. His family had a picnic there once, before his dad left, but the memory of this place that haunts him the most is of Stiles... Derek leans back against the rocks and closes his eyes, just for a second...

He wakes up to someone shaking his shoulder and repeating his name. He has no idea what time it is or how long he slept for, but he recognises the voice straight away, and opens his eyes immediately. Stiles is there - frown on face, but he's there, and it's more than Derek expected. With a dramatic sigh, Stiles sits down next to Derek, and the frown doesn't falter.

"So, I spoke to Erica." Stiles says. He doesn't sound angry anymore, just tired.

"What did she say?" Derek asks, still staring out across the river.

"That Jackson is a dick, which I knew. And that he's a liar, which I didn't." Stiles explains.

Derek turns to face him, taking in the curve of his nose, the heavenly hazel of his eyes. He thinks of the cold chill that spread across his body when Stiles ended things just hours before. The way that icy feeling seeped into his bones, and made him want to yell at the world because finally he was happy. _Finally_ happy...

"What did he tell you?" Derek asks finally, and Stiles turns to meet his gaze.

"He said that you were only with me on a dare. You had to get me to sleep with you, then you had to just leave me." Stiles replies, nearly a whisper.

Derek frowns, "And you believed him?"

Stiles lets out a laugh that's two parts bitter, one part exhaustion. Derek hopes he never has to hear such an awful sound ever again, because that damn near broke his heart. Again. He wants nothing more that to wrap Stiles in his arms and tell the world to go fuck itself, because he was fucking _happy_! And one of his friends took that away from him!

"Yeah, I believed him! Why wouldn't I? You're Derek Hale, captain of the basketball team, and shoe-in for prom king!" Stiles explains, and his voice is full of resentment again. "And I'm, well, me. I'm nerdy and I don't do sports and I'm not very popular. I constantly say the wrong things, and I ruin the good things in my life, I'm hyper-active, sarcastic and skinny. And I really like you, more than I'm supposed to. You're, like, the fantasy guy! Mr perfect specimen, and I really fucking like you! But why would you ever really want me."

Derek feels sick, because those are the exact reasons he hated Stiles, and yet they're the things he hates about himself. Even more ironically, they're the very things Derek loves most about him now, the things that make Derek _love him_. Because falling for is now head over heels, and he daren't even admit it to himself, because he ruins good things too.

"You're insane." Derek says.

"That too." Stiles replies without missing a beat, turning his gaze to the rock below him.

"No, you're insane for believing him." Derek explains, "Because I'm crazy about you, okay. And I'm not going to appologise for that. This was never some bet, this was always me having no idea how to talk to you without sounding like a complete fucking idiot! Because I'm really fucking crazy about you."

Stiles whips his head up to look Derek in the eyes. "Really?" He breathes, eyes wide.

Derek nods, and moves forward to capture Stiles' lips with his own. It's slow, messy and they're both grinning so much that it's far from practised or perfected. But it's wonderful, laced with unsaid feelings, and promises of more to come. So full of Stiles and Derek that there isn't room for anything else.

"Does this mean you frogive me for being a dick and breaking up with you." Stiles asks sheepishly.

"It may take a little more than that." Derek teases.

"As many blowjobs as you want for the rest of the year." Stiles promises, moving to straddle Derek's thighs.

Derek laughs, but Stiles silences him with another kiss. And another, and another, until they're both breathless. Still joined at the forehead, too busy smiling like idiots to pay much mind to the creeping darkness, or the approaching cold. Too imersed in the feeling of each other to care about what's going to happen at school on Monday - or the Chemistry homework which is laying at the bottom of their backpacks.

Erica - basically single-handedly - tells Jackson where to shove his meaningless apologies. He tries retreating to Lydia who slaps him for toying with Stiles' emotions. Even Danny tells him what he did wasn't cool, and that he should seriously re-think some things. Derek thinks it's no less than what he deserves.

Erica makes it her mission to tell Stiles every embaressing story she can think of, and any she misses, Isaac manages to recount. All the while Boyd watches on with an adoring smile. Derek doesn't think he's ever blushed so much, but Stiles just grins at him fondly, and it's all okay again. He still vows to murder both of them, but that's beyond the point.

Scott gives him 'the talk'. The 'he's my best friend and if you hurt him I will hurt you (I don't care that you're six foot of pure muscle and could probably snap me in half)' talk. It's quite amusing, but Derek pretends to be frightened, for Scott's sake. Then he and Stiles laugh about it together later that night, before dissolving into more kisses.

Sheriff Stillinski has a similar talk, and this time Derek listens to every word. Scott might be a literal puppy dog, but the Sheriff would probably kill him, and make it look like an accident. Also, he's the _Sheriff_. He has the power to arrest Derek, and handcuffs aren't one of his kinks.

Derek still hates everyone - some more than others - but there are a select few who he allows to see past the walls he's built. Then there's Stiles. He's a skinny, sarcastic, hyperactive nerd, and he has these _moles_. He's also the most beautiful person on the planet - Derek will fucking fight anyone who says otherwise - and he's Derek's person. Derek Hale is absolutely into Stiles Stilinski.


End file.
